Cards On The Table (Show Me Your Heart)
by seastarved
Summary: In which Emma loses control of her magic and Killian tells the truth. (Spoilers through 4.08)


_Graphic here: tmblr . co/ZVRwvr1UYU3CR_

_Disclaimer: _I own nothing.

* * *

><p>Emma Swan runs.<p>

She's always been good at it. It was easy the first time, sneaking out in the middle of the night with six things in her backpack. She didn't look back once.

It got harder. Leaving Lily was difficult but her anger at the betrayal did a good job of masking the hurt.

But when Neal left _her_, so easily, so callously, that was when she had begun to excel at it.

So now, when she is trying to do it again, to leave before it hurts, to push him, to push them away and every part of her screams out for her to stay, she knows that he's changed her.

They've changed her.

* * *

><p>When the memories come back, so does the fear.<p>

She remembers her time in that house, the kind eyes and the soft voice. She remembers the way the boys had bullied her.

She remembers how she had hurt them. The broken glass and the blood. She remembers the muffled voices and the whispered words (_dangerous_, _violent_). She remembers being taken away.

But after that, nothing. There is nothing for a long time until she wakes up in a home with fuzzy memories. They had told her that she'd developed a fever and she'd accepted the story, going on with her life, leaving at the first opportunity and never looking back.

But now that she remembers, her nights are plagued with the images of her little brother, of her son, of her parents, of Killian and the same broken glass and blood. She wakes up clutching the sheets, covered in sweat and doesn't fall asleep again after. He notices the tiredness in her walk, the circles under eyes- of course, he does- and asks her out on a second date. His thumb strokes her cheek, his voice is low and sincere (_You deserve a night off, love_) and she can't help but accept. They have dinner but every sound of clinking glass, every flickering candle makes her want to run in case she sets the place on fire. Even his fingers entwined with hers that had become her anchor in the last few days don't help.

He kisses her goodnight outside her door again, so much the same as the first time but so different. His hook digs into her thigh as his hand runs through her loose hair. She holds on to his desperately, looking for solid ground in this tumultuous sea. He seems to sense her urgency, holding her closer still, his tongue tangling with hers, kissing her until they can't breathe.

(Later, when she thinks back to this moment, she realises that he had been looking for stability just as much as she was.)

* * *

><p>He's lying spread eagled on the street, face littered with cuts, blood dripping down his chin but the thing that her eyes are fixated on is the shard of glass lodged in his chest. Henry falls to his knees behind him, shaking his shoulders, asking him to wake up, yelling for her to fix this. But, there is a roaring in her ears and she can't seem to move.<p>

Her body feels like it is aflame and when she looks down at her hands, the magic is crackling between her fingertips.

* * *

><p>She wakes to a loud shattering noise. Glass is all over her sheets, tiny fragments broken off the light bulb on her bedside lamp. She scrambles to sit up and in her haste, manages to cut herself on her palm.<p>

The sight of the blood, the gash in the middle of her hand makes the muted panic looming in the back of her head all week burst into a full flame. She needs to get out, now, _now_. A strangled sob escapes her lips as she grabs her jacket.

Deep breaths. One. Two.

She leaves the house as quietly as she can manage, glad that her brother has tired out her parents. The sound of the small explosion hadn't woken them.

* * *

><p>Storybrooke is the quietest place she has ever lived in. After returning from New York, getting herself to fall asleep every night had been an ordeal. She was used to traffic and lights, sounds that told her that she wasn't alone, noises at all hours of the night. So initially, the silence had overwhelmed her, threatening to drown her in her worry and her nightmares. But today, the nothingness calms her. She lets it seep into her bones, lets it slow her frantic breathing and calm her magic. The wound in her hand continues to sting.<p>

She is losing control again and just like before, her fear has only begun to magnify it. She pulls her jacket tighter around herself, hunching over as she walks, making herself as small as possible. The image of Killian from her dream assaults her mind and before she can think about it, she's making her way to his room at Granny's.

She's been standing outside his door for a while now, frozen in place, still not sure if wants to wake him. If this were before, she would have never even come here, chosen instead to wander the streets until she was so tired that she would fall asleep or just wait by the water for the sun to rise. But, it is not before and things are different now.

They are different now.

She lets him comfort her, lets him see when she is not okay. It's terrifying to let him see her, truly _see _her but it takes a weight off her shoulders in a way that has become addictive. But now, when all she wants is to hold him and touch him and make sure that he is okay, she hesitates because she is afraid.

What do you do when the one person you can talk to is the one person you are afraid of hurting?

(She spends the night by the water, wondering if this is the way that everything will break. )

* * *

><p>"Emma! Emma, wait!"<p>

"What?" She spins around to face him, feeling a twinge of regret when she sees him flinch at her shortness but she's got things to do. When the sun had risen she'd had but one thought on her mind, she had to see Gold. He was the only one who could help her and she needed to get to him before her brain catches up to the fact that this is a very bad idea.

"Easy, love. Where are you off to in such a hurry?" He smiles at her like he does, all sincerity and softness and she wants to cry, right there in the middle of the street and let him hold her. But suddenly, it's broken glass and blood again and she needs to go _now_.

"To see Gold," she hears herself say the words and her resolve hardens. She has to fix this. She begins to walk again but doesn't get very far before his hook comes around her elbow, pulling her closer.

"Did something happen? Is it about the Snow Queen? Let me help."

He speaks softly, just for their ears, his voice is filled with concern and she's hit again with this feeling that's been becoming more and more apparent recently, (something like belonging, something like _love_) and she wants to run to Gold as fast as she can to get rid of her magic so she can touch him again without feeling this _fear_.

He probably sees it in her eyes, the way they dart about his face, wide and shining because before she knows it, his fingers are interlaced with hers and he's slowly guiding her to a chair in the Sheriff's station.

"Are you okay, darling?"

He's kneeling in front of her, his hand still holding hers and she can't help but tell him. She doesn't meet his eyes, staring at their hands instead.

"It's my magic. I'm losing control again."

"Again?" His brow furrows and his grip on her hand tightens a little.

"It's happened before. In that house, with _her_- I hurt people," she looks up at him, "it's happening again and I'm going to Gold so he can help me make this stop before I hurt someone else."

It all comes out in a rush, her voice edging into panic and she stands, ready to leave again. But, he's there, pulling her close by her hand, his hook coming around her waist, eyes finding hers.

"Hey, breathe. You're alright, love."

Her eyes close and she takes a breath, lets his presence, his voice, his touch, calm her.

"And you're different now, older, more comfortable with your magic. I've seen you perform miracles with it, darling. You'll be alright."

Her eyes snap open.

"I'm not though-"

"Emma! Are you in here?" Her father's voice is frantic as he jogs into the room, closely followed by her flustered looking mother, holding her little brother. It says a lot about how concerned David is when he completely ignores the fact that she's wrapped up in Killian's arms and just sighs in relief when he spots her.

"Are you alright, mate?" Killian lets go of her as her mother approaches.

"She wasn't in her bed and there were glass shards everywhere-" David appears a little shaken still.

"We thought the Snow Queen had taken her!" Her mother on the other hand looks like she is about to burst into tears. She doesn't know how to answer them, her eyes automatically finding Killian's. He walks forward to face her once more.

"Lass, it's alright-"

"No it isn't! I did that in my _sleep_! What if one of you was around when it happened, I would have hurt you like-" She shows him her right hand and the cut through the middle, "It could have been you." Her voice trails off. His hand is tracing the wound when Mary Margaret speaks.

"Emma sweetie, what's happening?"

She looks around the room, filled with concerned faces, people that care about her, people she can still hurt. She doesn't answer and makes for the door.

"What about Regina, love?"

She answers as she walks.

"She's really not being helpful right now. Gold is my only option. He probably has some magic talisman or something that'll help me."

"Will somebody tell me what's going on? And why you're going to Gold?" David's voice is loud, commanding but they ignore him.

"So you're going to make a deal with him? You _know_ that's a bad idea, Emma please wait! Just think about this."

She stops and looks at him.

"I'm not going to make a deal. He's changed. I mean he fixed your hand didn't he?"

Killian's face twists into something like despair and her heart sinks. She'd had a feeling that something was wrong that night but she had been so swept up in their date, feeling like she was whole and unbroken, like she was _new_, after so long, that she had ignored the signs.

"What did you do, Killian?"

* * *

><p>Emma Swan runs.<p>

* * *

><p>It feels like another day a long time ago, a boat house, fear, anger and betrayal. She'd felt it then, felt how every moment that she had spent with him had suddenly become coloured by something (even though she hadn't admitted to it then, she had begun to feel for him), making it all feel like a sour taste in her mouth.<p>

It is much, much worse now.

Now, when he has seen the very depths of her, when he has seen her weak and vulnerable, when he has touched the bones of her past with his hand, when he has held her, kissed her, now, that he has been lying to her, she feels like someone has ripped a part of her heart away brutally.

(Just like before, just like always.)

She's walking, well no, she's _stomping_ through the woods, trying to get as far away as she can from the town, away from people she can hurt (the look on her mother's face as she had left the station, an errant lick of flame catching on the door as she had left) and people who can hurt her.

Her magic crackles between her fingertips again.

Deep breaths. One. Two.

She can't forget the way he had looked when he had told her his story. His posture hunched over in shame and his voice stuttering as he started and stopped whenever it got to be too much.

She squeezes her eyes shut when tears threaten to overwhelm her. He had looked so broken but her old fears of being left behind, of being lied to had urged her to run, to leave him behind. She feels stupid for letting him do this to her, for letting him get under skin like this and making her feel helpless. She had sworn to never let that happen again after Neal.

That is, until she met him.

She's never really given a name to how she feels about him, content to let things happen as they will. But now, she realises how deep it goes, how deep her feelings run when the emotion that is dwarfing all others is how she wants to hold him and tell him it's alright, that his heart isn't darkened like he suspects, that she takes him for who he is, as he is.

She realises that as much as she's been letting him into her heart, he's been afraid of showing her his, afraid of how she would react if she saw all of the darkness inside him. That is why his eyes had been so far away recently, troubled by what Rumplestiltskin had done to him.

(Doesn't he know that their hearts are made out of the same thing? That they have been broken and put back together so many times? That she is just as damaged as he is?)

She begins to walk back into town, thinking about how she's been marking him. Every touch of her hand, every bit of comfort, every kiss, every embrace. She's been marking him.

He is hers.

And she'll be damned if she is going to let Gold take that away from her.

* * *

><p>She finds him as he is leaving Gold's shop, the bell still tinkling when she comes to stand in front of him, her breath short, her eyes wide.<p>

"Swan?" He looks surprised to see her, his eyebrows go up and then his face falls once more. She has some words for him for going to see Gold again about god knows what but first-

"Can we go somewhere to talk?"

"I- of course."

She begins to walk to Granny's, the closest place from here. Maybe talking in his room isn't the best idea she's had but this conversation needs to happen _now_.

* * *

><p>"Swan, you don't have to- I understand if you need for me to leave," he says after she's been quiet for the last few minutes, pacing in front of him. His voice is low and she barely hears him because she's still trying to figure out what she's going to say, how she's going to explain the tempest brewing within in her.<p>

Her magic still clawing to bleed out of the cracks in her calm.

Deep breaths. One. Two.

She turns to face him. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand clenched into a fist, his shoulders low as he stares at the floor. She lets out a big sigh and begins to speak.

"I am so angry at you, Killian."

He looks up.

"I-"

She puts her hand up, gesturing for him stop speaking.

"No, let me finish. I am angry because you didn't tell me about the dagger. And blackmailing Gold? Really? You're three hundred years old and you spent most of those years chasing after the guy and you _really_ thought that that was a good idea?"

His eyes are wide as he looks at her, his mouth opening and closing without any words coming out.

"I'm going to deal with _him_ later. But you. You-" Her eyes lock with his, "You. Why would you do that?"

He stands and runs his hand through his hair in frustration.

"I did it so I could be whole for you, so I could give you what you deserve Emma! Not me, not this broken, one-handed pirate who was too weak to resist the Dark One's tricks and too selfish to let you go. I did-"

He never gets to finish his sentence because she's kissing him. Her arms are around his waist, holding him as close to herself as possible. She kisses him with all the passion of the words she cannot say yet. He is surprised at first but soon enough, his arms come around her, his hand clutching at her jacket and his mouth moving in desperation against hers, like this is his last kiss with her. It is that thought that makes her pull away from him, dropping a final chaste kiss to his lips. When she looks at him, his eyes are still shut and he's breathing hard.

Her hand comes up to stroke his cheek, thumbing at the scar on it. He leans into her touch with a sigh and his eyes open to look at her. He still looks unspeakably sad but a small, wry smile curves at his mouth and she feels an answering one grow on her face.

"I don't care if you have one hand or twenty. I want _you_."

It's the closest she's come to telling him how she feels.

(It's the closest she's come to telling _herself_ how she feels.)

His forehead falls against hers and he sighs, his shoulders finally relaxing.

"Love, I apologize. I shouldn't have kept any of this from you."

"You're right about that. But, you did and I'm not going to let Gold or your idiocy," the smile on her face grows even more, "take away one of the best things that has happened to me in a long time."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but I want you and that's what matters."

* * *

><p>They're walking through the woods. Again. She wonders how much of her life she's spent trudging through these woods since she's arrived in Storybrooke.<p>

Her phone had rung almost immediately after they had patched up, demonstrating once again how impeccable the timing was with the villains in this town. It was Robin, the Merry Men had seen some disturbance a little further into the woods, snowfall and icy floors, things like that. So, of course, she and Killian and set off to investigate. She'd called David to let him know that she was okay and that she'd explain later but he needed to come to the woods immediately. She'd heard her mother in the background and the fact that there were people who worried about her is still something that often takes her by surprise. She smiles and promises herself that she will explain everything to them soon.

They've been walking for a while now, mostly in silence. She appreciates the quiet, walking close to him but lost in her thoughts, contemplating the still major problem of controlling her magic that looms above her.

"Don't you two make a pretty pair?"

They turn around in unison, following her voice. She's standing behind them, calm as ever, speaking in that soft voice that unnerves her every time.

"But I don't need you right now." She raises her hand and Killian is frozen in place, ice piling at his feet as the Snow Queen moves closer to her. He begins to speak but before he can get a word out, she's closed his throat.

"Let him _go_," she grits out, her anger flaring.

"I heard that your memories of me have returned and I just wanted to explain, Emma."

"I don't need you to explain. I remember what happened. You made me angry and you kept me confused, kind one moment and a tyrant the next and when I lost control of the magic you worked so hard to get out of me, you let them take me away. I should warn you, it's happening again and I'm not responsible for what I may do to you."

Her voice shakes as the memories assault her mind.

"Emma," she moves closer and Emma's hands go up in defence, her magic ready to be unleashed, "I tried, I tried to make them let you stay. I wanted us to be a family. I understood you, I understood how they were afraid of you. They are still afraid of you. This man," she gestures at Killian, "you think he will stay with you after he finds out what you did to those poor boys? What you are capable of? They will never understand you, Emma. But, I do."

Her anger had been growing as the words had escaped the Snow Queen's lips, but they burst into a large flame when she talks about Killian, her magic wild and strong as it pushes her off her feet.

"Thanks, but I already _have_ a family."

Killian is still choking and she runs to his side, trying to use her magic to free him but it's not working as fast as she'd like it to, his body gently falling forward as he weakens.

"I will come back for you, Emma and we _will_ be a family." She barely hears her voice over the roaring sound in her ears but as soon as she is gone, the ice holding Killian thaws and he falls to his knees, his hand immediately going to his throat, massaging it.

"You were brilliant, love." His voice is hoarse, a rough rasp. She lets out something between a laugh and a sob and his hand is in hers, anchoring her.

She still isn't sure how she's going to deal with her magic, but she knows this. She has people to rely on, people she can trust and for now, that is everything.


End file.
